LOVE AND SEX
Love is a classical form of attraction between a man and a woman whose durability depends on the sexual ability of man and perception of material benefits of woman.
Weekend Husband story projects the plight of youth. It is deceptive to shy away from this subject. As a political organization we should address this problem. It is a disgrace to the nation if fail to address this issue.
A half naked saffron clad sadhu was walking on the edge of the high way unmindful of speeding vehicles. His eyebrows were moving up and down in anger. Half an hour ago he took bath in a small river. He saw dead fish floating in the river. He looked at them curiously to find the reason for their death.
‘You will get sick if you eat that fish’. A teenage boy cautioned him.
‘Do you know the reason for their death?’ Sadhu asked.
‘It is all because of Nandi reddy.’
‘Who is he?’
‘MP’.
‘Do you mean Member of Parliament?’
‘Yes’
‘I wish I were a fool to believe you.’ Sadhu flashed a smile at the boy.
‘Okay don’t believe me to make yourself a fool’. The boy laughed aloud and walked away balancing his cattle stick on the edge of his forefinger.
‘Swami, don’t curse him. He is telling truth.’ A dhobi who was watching their conversation said.
Sadhu shook his head in disbelief.
‘Waste chemical liquid from the factory owned by the MP is dumped into this river.’ Dhobi said in affirmative voice.
A speeding sedan car came to a grinding halt some fifty yards in front of Sadhu. The shiny crimson color and elegant back design of the car failed to grab his attention.
An young man with well groomed mustache and curly haircut stepped out of the car gently. He took of his sunglasses and pasted a schoolboy smile on his face.
‘Namaste swami’ young man wished humbly with folded hands. Sadhu acknowledged with a nod of his head and moved forward.
‘Sir, please…’
‘Why do you follow me? I have nothing to give you. I am ordinary sadhu, not a Goodman.’
‘Sir, you saved my life.’
‘No way, how could I? I depend on the mercy of the people for my food.’
‘If it is not for your advice, I would have committed suicide two years ago.’
‘I regret for my foolish advice, now you may go ahead with your noble suicide attempt.’
The Youngman hurled himself forward and stood on the way of sadhu.
‘Are you happy now?’ Sadhu asked him affectionately.
‘Yes sir, but..’
‘But…?’
‘Now she wants to stay with her husband.’
‘Did she reject you?’
‘She wants me too.’
‘Is there anything I could do for you?’
‘Only if you could come to our house and advise…her to..’
Both of them walked back to the car. Young man opened the door for sadhu to get in.
Sadhu closed his eyes as soon as he sat in the car. Young man went into the past as he drove back home.
A beautiful girl sat on the soft grass on Kailasagiri looking at the merger point of sky and Bay of Bengal. She did not notice that some one had focused his binoculars on her.
‘Miss.’
She turned her head in the direction of the sound and twisted her lips questioningly at the young man. Her eyes scanned his dress and concluded him as a postgraduate student.
‘I need to apologige you.’
‘What for?’
‘I have been looking at you for the past forty minutes.’
‘Thanks, now you may go.’
‘I’m Manoj.’
‘Nice name. I’m Hidimbi. I’m in search of human flesh. You are too lean.’ She stood up and started he walk down the semicircular path.
‘Hi, Hidimbi don’t come here next Sunday, lest I may fall in love with you. I need to finish my MBA.’ The young man shouted at the top of his voice.
She looked up and burst into spontaneous laughter and walked away swinging her buttocks like a ramp walker.
Few days later they met at a bus stop and acknowledged each other’s presence with smile before they boarded buses in the opposite direction. A month later Manoj saw her in a movie theatre sitting in the front row. On seeing a seat on her side vacant, he instinctively walked there. He sat by her side like a stranger interested in the film only.
‘Are you not scared to sit on my side? I am devil.’ she whispered into his ears after few minutes.
‘I have come to seek your help as there is a married devil on the back row’. She burst into a low key laughter.
They walked out of the theatre hand in hand unmindful of the presence of their friends. Their love blossomed with the on set of next monsoon. They felt as though they were born to embrace each other. They cursed the summer holidays that separating them.
Manoj received shocking news from her friends after summer vacation. They informed him that his girl friend had married a son of an industrialist. He lost his mental balance.
One day Manoj took a long ride and parked his motorcycle at a steep curve. He looked at the valley and the sliding son on the top of the mountain on the other side alternately. He stood on the side wall motionless for a while and then took out a photograph of the girl who broke his heart. He took a deep breath and kissed the photograph.
‘That’s a bad point. You can have a better jump from here. Please give me the key of your bike before you jump.’ Manoj turned his head in the direction of the voice. A sadhu was sitting few yards away on the same wall. His grief turned into anger. He walked towards sadhu with raised first. Sadhu smiled at him like a descendent from heaven.
‘Sorry’ Manoj bowed his head as a mark of respect.
Darkness descended on the valley as Manoj narrated his love story. The stars were twinkling in delight as the clouds were blown away by the wind.
‘Did you have sex with your girl friend?’ Sadhu asked looking at the half eaten moon.
‘No sir, our love is pure.’ Manoj replied.
Sadhu laughed it off with a note of descent. Manoj is confused. Sadhu gave him a rare fruit.
‘Nice fragrance. I never saw it before.’
‘Eat it.’
Manoj obeyed. He ate slowly enjoying every bite.
‘Your love is like a fruit in hand. Swallow it before you leap down to death.’ Sadhu said and walked away.
‘What’s her name?’ Sadhu asked.
‘Samatha.’
‘You put on some weight, I suppose. You were lean when I saw you on the hill top.’
Manoj flashed a smile of acceptance.
‘Are you still in love with her?’
‘Yaah, the only agony is I have to share the fruit with her husband.’
‘People never grudge while sharing god with others. She must be goddess of love.’
‘May be true. When I am in bed with her I never feel that I am sharing her with another man.’
‘How could you win her back.’
Manoj took a deep breath before he began narration of the past.
“I took your words on the hilltop as a divine message and rode back to my room. I gave up studies. Success in love looked more important than a career in life. I conveyed the message to my father and joined in a driving school.
Praveen, her husband is busy industrialist. Samatha and I are of the same age. Praveen is six years older than me. He looks quite dignified. I bribed his maid servant to introduce me to him as most obedient and trust worthy driver unmindful of doing minor house hold work. I got the job and accomadation in the basement.
She was unnerved when Praveen introduced me as car driver. ‘Tell him that he need to attend to some house hold work and sleep in the basement when you are out of town. I want the car always clean.’ She was quite casual when she spoke. She walked in like a professional house wife. She added some flesh since I saw her last.
Praveen said, ‘Don’t get scared , she is quite soft. The only thing is that everything should look clean and perfect.’
It was fifteen day since I took shelter in the basement. The very thought of her romancing with her husband right above my head used to burn my heart. It was nine. I was relaxing after a good supper. That morning Praveen left for Delhi to attend some conference. A staircase in the basement leads into the hall in the ground floor. It s usually locked from inside. I walked up. When I put my hand on the doorknob to support my self, it opened with a mild creek. I walked up another staircase in the hall that lead me to the first floor. The blue print of every room is in my mind. There is shiver in my body as I pushed her bed room door in.
My Venus is on the bed, cross legged, reading a book. Mild anger shot into my brain. It is because of this lady I wanted to kill myself.
‘Come on my boy, I’m waiting for you since dawn.’ she said opening her hands. I bent down on her. She hugged me with all the fascination in the world. She lead me in the act of love.” Manoj stopped for a breath.
‘Do you wish to quit the game and return to your parents?’ Sadhu asked.
‘No sir, I want her more than anything in my life. My love for her had intensified further since I started sharing bed with her.’
‘Then, what is the fun of me coming to your house?’
‘I want her all for myself. I requested her to divorce her husband and settle with me.’
‘What did she say?’
‘When we alone she never lets me speak. One day she even said ‘Make love or leave this room. Don’t waste time like a stupid lover.’’
After that both of them were silent till the car entered into the compound of its master.
Samatha served food on banana leaf for Sadhu. He was pleased with her affection an mannerism.
‘Why don’t you like to go with Manoj?’ At last Sadhu dared to ask her out of his own curiosity.
She replied with a smile.
She went in and came back with a banana in one hand and an apple in the other.
‘Sir which one do you like to have?’ she asked.
‘Both’
‘You got answer to your question, sir.’ she said and walked into the kitchen.
Sadhu’s mouth was wide open.
Naraiah was forty two. He was a professional beggar. He survived in the field for the past thirty years upgrading his skills now and then. He shakes his head in disbelief whenever his childhood experiences spill out of his memory lane.
He was relaxing under the shade of a banyan tree after walking ten kilometers in the dense forest. Memories of his own son had been lingering often. A feeling of loneliness had crept in. He attended several religious discourses as demanded by his profession. People were quite generous on such occasions.
‘Why did we commit sin in our previous birth?‘ one day he asked a sadhu who sat on his right in a beggars row outside a temple. Then he was barely fifteen.
‘Don’t take them to heart. They are classic beggars. They sell God in the name of religion. They generate fear in the minds of listeners. Where there is no fear, no God, no religion, no sin, no repentance and no begging.’
Naraiah looked at the sadhu in confusion. ‘If there is no God: how were we born?’
‘Still it is a mystery. This vast universe is beyond our imagination.’ Sadhu flashed a philosophical smile at the boy and picked up few coins that were scattered on a towel in front of him. He gave one to Naraiah and moved away.
Two years later Naraiah met him at a mela.
‘You look like my son. Come I need to teach you something,’ sadhu said.
‘What shall I learn?’ Naraiah asked in confusion.
‘Art of begging. Society is fast changing If you fail to upgrade your skills you will remain as inferior class beggar for ever. Do what I say.’
The river divided itself into two streams forming a small island of sand in the middle. Some one eructed a small platform on the island and pasted a Siva lingam made of granite stone on the top. The stream is four feet deep. The water is clear and warm. When they were in the middle, sadhu asked the boy to dip his head in the water thrice.
‘Dry yourself in Sun.’ Sadhu gave a gentle command.
‘Done,’ Naraiah said few minutes later. Sadhu gave him a new saffron lungi.
‘A beggar is not supposed own anything except two pairs of cloth. If you have food for three days, stop begging till you have consumed it. Never curse those who refuse to fill your bowl. Take bath before you beg for the day. If you receive food from a house, you should not visit the same house before thirty six days period had lapsed.
Never beg in the same village on the second day. Don’t accept food from anyone who abuses you.’ sadhu continued his preaching for the next forty minutes. At one juncture Naraiah wanted to run away from him. Some inexplicable scare had locked him down.
Next day he set out chanting ‘ohm nama sivaya’ to try the new version of begging. He went to five houses and got enough rice to feed him for three days. He was amazed as none had cursed him unlike in the past. That was the beginning of change in Naraiah.
‘Who are you?’
Naraiah opened his eyes. A man in military green dress stood in front f him.
‘I’m a beggar.’
‘Why are you here?’
‘May I ask you the same?’
‘This is our zone. Leave this place at once.’ The man in green put his gun down as he spoke.
‘There is a temple of lord Siva deep inside. I’m going there. It is old temple and still pious. If you wish you too can come with me. You can share my food.’
‘Are you not ashamed?’
‘….for what?’
‘Begging, it is the most shameless proffession.’ The man with gun spoke harshly.
‘You too are not in a noble proffession,Mr.Naxalite!’ Naraiah flashed back in mild anger.
‘You fools can’t understand our theory. We have sacrificed our personal lives and are prepared to die for the cause of common man.’ The noble militant spoke proudly.
Naraiah simply laughed it off. ‘Nothing is more ugly than self praise.’
‘Don’t anger me. I will shoot you down.’
‘You may do it any time. Sit down young man. As far as I know we both are the same. I don’t work, but I get food. You too… no work…food.’
That angered the naxalite further and pointed the gun at Naraiah.
‘Are you against the freedom of speech?’ Naraiah asked with a borrowed innocence.
They remained silent for a while studying each other.
‘It looks like a Chinese gun. How did you get them? What favour do you do for the suppliers? Part some land in the border?’
‘Stop your idiotic questions? Each revolution has its own strategy.’ young man spoke in defence.
‘Who is financing your revolution?’
‘……..’
‘Contractors? Illicit liquor traders? Black marketeers? Corrupt officers? Mafia leaders? And..’
‘Keep quite,’ young man shouted at the top of his voice.
‘Okay young man.I must not irritate your Chinese gun.’ Naraih leaned back against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes in defiance.
The young man put his gun down. He was sixteen when he joined the PWG. Now he is Maoist. There is no hope. Only survival. With out companion, without sex. Those who quit the organization were killed mysteriously. He felt ashamed of his attitude towards the beggar. He walked away from the scene carrying plenty of questions which would be answered by the history.
‘Am I a revolutionist or a parasite on the society?’ He asked himself.